


What does Google say?

by TheMissingMask



Series: Driving Drabbles [2]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Missing Scene, Pararibulitis (Dirk Gently), Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), and mona is probably a cushion or a blanket and maybe a crutch, and moonshine, appropriate use of search engines, attempted medical care, todd and dirk look after each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 01:12:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMissingMask/pseuds/TheMissingMask
Summary: After they all get sent back from Wendimoor, Todd takes care of Dirk's leg.





	What does Google say?

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene from the end of the second season.

Todd stood outside the Bergsberg county hospital feeling oddly content.  He had safely delivered all three of the downed officers to the hospital, in what he reckoned oughta be record time, and had been assured by the surgeon that they were in excellent hands.

He was just about to start looking for the rest of their assembled gaggle of whatever-they-were, starting with one Dirk Gently, when a voice to his right suddenly reminded him of an old saying about the devil and the consequences of speaking his name…

"Hi Todd."

"Dirk!" He spun to face the unnervingly pale Brit, "How'd you get here?"

"The boy, Todd.  Obviously.” Dirk rolled his eyes, “Keep up."

Despite the entirely Dirkish mannerism, and even with a wooden crutch under one arm - Mona, Todd presumed - the guy was looked very much on the brink of collapse. Todd immediately wrapped an arm around Dirk’s waist to support him and cast a glance towards the very blood-soaked trouser leg and bullet hole therein.

"Let's get that looked at.” He nudged his friend towards the hospital entrance, but was met with unexpected resistance.

"No."

“No?!  Dirk, you're..."

"Sir?" A passing nurse interrupted Todd's incredulous response, "Are you alright?  Hold on.  Let me get a wheelchair."

Dirk flashed a brilliantly fake smile, "That's not necessary.  This is just…undiluted ribena…?” He attempted, toying over the explanation even as it escaped his lips. Todd gawked at him, immediately turning to gawk at the nurse who had apparently bought the so obviously fake lie, and promptly left with an understanding nod and polite smile.

"What the hell, Dirk?!" Todd yelled at him, "You have fucking bullet in your leg!"

"Ah yes, about that…" Dirk turned large, puppy-dog eyes on his assis-friend.

———

Half an hour later, Todd was back in the Bergsberg county sheriff department, kneeling in front of a trouser-less Dirk, tightening a tourniquet around the man's thigh.

“This is not how I imagined this happening.” He muttered under his breath, too tired to have much by way of verbal filter functioning, and hoping his friend would be socially clueless enough to miss the connotations. And, even if not, Todd was pouring a jar of moonshine he had found in evidence on the very open bullet wound, which Todd figured was probably a pretty good way to distract the man from the unchecked words coming out of his mouth.

“Nor I.” Dirk breathed through gritted teeth as Todd wiped a cloth over the wound, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Todd shrugged, “Google does.”

“How reassuring.” Dirk replied dryly.

Todd glanced back at the WikiHow page he’d brought up on his phone giving instructions on 'How to treat a bullet (with pictures)’ before washing the forceps he’d found on Hobbs’ desk in a second jar of moonshine.

Once satisfied with what he needed to do next, he paused to fix Dirk with an enduring glare, “You know who would know what they’re doing?  Doctors.  Like the ones at the hospital we were literally just standing in front of less than an hour ago!"

“I don’t much care for hospitals.”

"You were in one before."

“Not entirely by choice.”

Todd gave Dirk his 'explain what the fuck is going on right now or I will keep staring at you like this until the end of time' look. It had proven surprisingly effective at both eliciting a response, and driving Dirk's voice at least an octave higher as he fumbled through creative vocabularies in an attempt to explain himself.  Not this time though.  This time when he responded after a drawn out, heavy silence, his voice was low and quiet.

“They, um, seem to share an interior designer with Blackwing…” He half-joked nervously, toying with the cushion by his left thigh.

Todd bit his lip.  Obviously.  That should have been pretty fucking obvious.  Todd silently chastised himself for his complete and utter lack of anything resembling tact. He really wasn't very good at this friend thing. But he was determined to try.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Dirk raised his head, "What?"

"Blackwing." Todd placed a hand carefully on Dirk's good leg, "I mean, you said you had escaped for, like, 15 years.  And then you’re back there twice in the past three months.  I, I don't know, guess that must be...well, just, if you wanna…talk…"

“Todd…”

“You-you don’t have to pretend, or, you know, be brave, Dirk. Not with me.”

An empty, excruciatingly un-Dirk-like smile played over the detective’s features. A cheap imitation of the real thing.

He shook his head and laughed bitterly, “It’s not bravery, Todd. Far from it. I-I’m terrified of facing all that. I’m not ready to… Maybe one day, but not yet.”

Todd squeezed his thigh gently in reassurance and silent promise that when ‘yet’ came, he would be right there at Dirk’s side. He let his hand rest there for a few moments longer, carefully watching for Dirk’s face for a sign that his mind was back in the present, pulled back away from his haunted past. And, if Todd hastened him back to the moment with an accidental jolt to his injured leg, well, he’d just call it an accident and move on.

“Are you ready?” He asked when Dirk seemed himself once more.

“I don’t know. What does Google say?”

“Google says ‘yes, before you pass out’.”

“Then I suppose I am.” Dirk took a deep breath as he watched Todd pick the forceps up in preparation for the makeshift operation.

“Wait.” Todd suddenly shoved the forceps into Dirk’s hand, fumbled with the man’s discarded trousers for a minute, pulling out the belt, “Put this in your mouth”

Dirk looked between Todd and the proffered belt with wide eyes, “Todd, I hardly think this is the time…”

“It’s so you don’t bit your tongue off, idiot.” Todd rolled his eyes, “They do it in films all the time.”

Dirk continued to eye the strap of leather sceptically, but obeyed nonetheless, exchanging it for the forceps in his hand.

“Ok, on three.” Todd gave Dirk’s good leg another reassuring squeeze, “One, two…”

Dirk screamed into the belt as Todd suddenly plunged the forceps into the wound and began trying to get a purchase on the blood-slickened bullet. It always looked so easy on TV, but Todd felt like he was digging around in there for hours before finally managing to get enough of a purchase on the lump of metal to pull it free. He tossed it hatefully across the room as Dirk tried to reign in his agonised breathing.

“You ok?”

Dirk shook the belt from his mouth, hands still too occupied in their death grip on the cushion, “Spectacular.” He grit out.

“Alright, just bandages and we’re done.” Todd tried to offer a comforting smile, but the amount of blood spilling from Dirk’s leg was quickly making him nauseous, “Hold this for a sec.”

He handed Dirk a towel and helped him start to apply pressure over the bleeding wound before preparing the gauze and bandages he had laid ou. It took several minutes to get the wound dressing ready, and considerably longer to actually apply it to the now very bloody bullet hole.

When the ordeal was finally over, one corner of the sheriff’s office was a mess of blood and bandages and moonshine, the sofa and both men’s clothes were thoroughly stained a deep red, and Dirk skin was as white as Todd’s jacket had once been.

“Jesus christ. You look like crap, man.” Todd fought off panic as he took in the chaotic scene around him, “Sugar. You need sugar…I think Tina had…”

“Meds.” Dirk’s breathing had become a lot more laboured, but his voice was less pained than before, “You haven’t taken…words…”

“Seriously, Dirk?!” Todd shook his head, “First, we need…”

“Now.” The detective demanded in the most authoritatively British tone he could muster, “Or I kick you.”

With an irritated eye roll, Todd quickly swallowed four of the pills from the container in his pocket.

“Satisfied?”

“Exceedingly.”

———

The pair ended up finding their way to the holding cell they had originally shared, knowing it to be at least reasonably clean and the beds much more bearable than a blood-soaked sofa. Once Dirk was settled on the bottom bunk, Todd hurried to find the stash of gummy worms Tina had hidden in her desk drawer, and a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in the office.

Once the worms had been shared between them and the water entirely drained, Todd went to settle on the seat nearby, only to find Dirk’s hand snapping out to catch his wrist.

As he looked down and their eyes locked, the silent exchange that passed between them was the wrecking ball against whatever boundaries they had put in place to define their relationship. Todd dropped suddenly to his knees and captured Dirk’s lips with his own. The detective reached one hand up to pull Todd closer, desperate to deepen the kiss. In that single contact, they could finally speak the volumes unsaid. They could share everything they were unable to voice because the words to do so simply did not exist.

As they broke apart, Todd reached out to stroke some sweat-dampened hair from Dirk’s forehead, moving it back into it’s usual tidy place above his left eye.

“Maybe I should get shot more often.” Dirk smiled sleepily.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Todd warned as he crawled onto the cot beside the detective and pulled the blanket over them, “Or I swear I’ll kick your ass all the way back to England.”

Dirk nuzzled into Todd’s neck, “Hmm…Is that so?”

Todd wrapped his arms around the slender form, “I said kick, Dirk. Now go to sleep.”

“Later, then.” Dirk murmured as he snuggled in closer against Todd’s body.

Todd hummed in agreement, Dirk hummed in concurring agreement, and together the pair drifted to sleep, content in the understanding that they were alive, safe, and together.


End file.
